She was a ballerina, wound as tight as the corset in her costumes. He was a hockey player determined to make a friend out of someone who didn't want any. She was willing to entertain the idea. But only because he wiggled his way past her defenses to...
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It was one week before Christmas that I next heard from Loren. It was via text inviting me to another party, this time holiday themed.
I accepted the invitation, knowing I would love nothing more than to see my good friend and to see a familiar face during the winter break from shows at the company, but when it finally came to the day of the party, I struggled a bit. I hadn't seen Loren (intentionally) since the wrap party for Nutcracker, aka the night I found out Rebecca was cheating on him. It was a less than ideal situation, since Loren had a history with being cheated on, Rebecca was sleeping with my boss and could hold that above my head if she wanted, and I just wanted to be frolicking happily through Central Park with Loren. None of the situations above were good, and only one I actually wanted to happen (and it was the most unrealistic of them all).
So the Friday before Christmas, I spent pretending that I couldn't find an outfit when I knew the real reason was that I was afraid to see Loren.
My phone buzzed from its place on the bed stand and I looked over at it tiredly. Picking it up, I saw a message from Annabel, which was becoming a more present staple in my life. Following my big attempt at patching things up by telling her about my role as Giselle, we had been speaking several times a day about a variety of nonsense. The latest was a picture of Annabel surrounded by wrapping paper, a crying JJ in the background with the message of:
Don't you just love wrapping presents for ungrateful children?
I smirked at the message, learning recently that "JJ the angel" had recently turned into "JJ the spawn of Satan" due to a massive spike in tantrums, despite Annabel's attempts at varying parenting techniques.
I snapped a picture of my bed, which was strewn with clothes and sent a message back.
I think I'd rather listen to JJ scream than try to pick out what to wear to a friend's party tonight.
I began hanging up the obvious no's when my phone buzzed again.
Do the black dress. That thing needs to see the light of day again.
I glanced from Annabel's text to the dress I'd just hung back up. I'd bought it when I turned twenty one and needed a club dress to go out for a "birthday" party some dancers threw me and hadn't looked at it since. It was black, long sleeved and had a hem that went just past the knee - all considered too conservative by my fellow young adults - but had a long slit that went up the thigh, and just enough of a v-neck to reveal a healthy dose of cleavage, or in my case, a healthy dose of sternum.
I thought over Annabel's suggestion, wondering if by taking her advice, I'd feel too risque. My phone buzzed again.
Wear it with the gold heels I got you last Christmas. Perfect! Especially if there are any cute boys to impress ;)
I weighed over the suggestion again. Annabel had gotten me a very pretty pair of gold, metallic pumps with a tall heel and pointy toe. They would look very nice with such a fancy dress. But was it really me? To make such a grandiose statement when going to a friend's party? A friend whom I was secretly in love with and hated his cheating girlfriend?
